


Some Things are Never Lost

by bgn846



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, smol!Gladio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgn846/pseuds/bgn846
Summary: Clarus comes to terms with his children growing up, though some things never change. Written for A Father's Love FFXV Fan zine.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Gladiolus Amicitia & Iris Amicitia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Some Things are Never Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This was a wonderful project to work on and I enjoyed getting to write this story.

The sound of erratic footsteps filled the air as Clarus sat working at his desk. He knew what was coming and rolled his leather chair out slightly. Soon enough, Gladio came tearing into his study, his dark, wavy hair bouncing as he ran. The boy bounded up to him, and Clarus easily scooped him up to settle on his lap. The three-year-old had learned to seek solace in Clarus’ study so he could evade bedtime. Liliales, his wife, was hot on his trail, but she didn’t share her son’s enthusiasm regarding the small detour. 

“Gladiolus, come here right now,” she sighed. “It’s your bedtime.”

His son simply giggled at the statement and turned away to push at things on his desk. Clarus knew to stay silent during these little exchanges. It was a battle waged between mother and son, and not one he wanted to interrupt. 

Liliales tried once more, “Gladiolus, I’m serious.”

Gladio giggled again and turned, smiling up at Clarus. He was happily ignoring his mother, and it didn’t appear the woman had enough mental willpower to wrest him from his father’s grasp.

Sighing heavily, she shook her head and turned to leave them alone. This behavior would normally be cause for alarm, except it had been going on for months. Gladio would run to his study right before bedtime and play to avoid being captured by his mother. It seemed his son would forget what he was running from after a certain time. 

Turning his attention back to the boy, Clarus resituated him better. Gladio knew what was coming and grinned like a little mad man. Reaching out, Clarus grabbed his pen jar and plonked it in front of his son. The jar was chock full of pens, pencils, highlighters, and even a mini compass. Gladio immediately took it and tipped it upside down, dumping the contents all over his desk.

Clarus leaned back and relaxed as he watched his son organize his writing instruments. Keeping an arm around the boy's back ensured Gladio wouldn’t accidentally fall off his lap. It was a joy to watch him work. First, the pens were all sorted out and put in a row, then the pencils followed suit. Once everything was in a neat line on his desk, it all went back into the jar. One by one, Gladio would take an item and carefully place it in the container. 

Seeing Gladio pick up the last pen to put it away made him a touch sad. It meant his mother would be back soon to collect him. Sure enough, once Clarus had pushed the jar back into place on his desk, his wife reappeared. She’d abandoned the stern demeanor from earlier and came in literally sweeping Gladio up to take him to bed. This time, however, the child didn’t complain and eagerly accepted the hug from his mother. 

The sound of their soft chattering drifted away and down the hall. He’d get to enjoy the same thing tomorrow evening, and the idea made his heart swell. Though a small part of him knew this wouldn’t last forever. Gladio would outgrow this as all children did. 

Life has an interesting way of working out. Clarus had long accepted that when one thing fell away, another filled its place. Gone were the visits to his study to reorganize his pen jar. However, a new activity had captured his son’s attention. The laptop Clarus used for work came installed with basic games. Gladio would sit on his lap and navigate through military bases, trying to escape or chuck exploding bananas at buildings. This, of course, continued to work as a wonderful bedtime deterrent. Liliales would leave him be, and the ritual felt cemented in their nightly routine.

Eventually, the games became too boring, and Gladio craved more. There were only so many levels one could play in a game before it became monotonous. Gladio still came to see him every night, but as the months ticked by, the nature of the visit slowly changed. The games had fallen by the wayside, and Gladio only came running in to kiss Clarus good night. 

It was hard not to get upset, his son was growing up. This was only natural, and it was a good thing, but the feelings that accompanied this growth were painful sometimes. However, small moments cropped up occasionally that brought back the youthful innocence he remembered.

It was one hot summer afternoon on a Saturday when Clarus had an opportunity to create another memory. Five-year-old Gladio had eagerly run outside to join him when he was beckoned right after lunch. Clarus had his supplies already and merely needed his little assistant to help. 

His son seemed confused at first, but the second Clarus positioned a magnifying glass over a piece of wood, Gladio was entranced. Using the sun to burn the wood was an old trick Clarus’ dad had taught him. Now, it was his turn to show his son. 

Gladio squealed excitedly as Clarus slowly spelled his name in the piece of wood. Of course, the boy wanted to try, so Clarus held his son’s hand around the magnifying glass as he traced the outline of a heart. Next, they added a smiley face on the opposite side. Soon enough, Clarus had to go and retrieve another piece of wood from the shed. 

They were both able to complete one more piece before the clouds came and blotted out the sun. A small, skinny board imprinted with the words ‘I love you’ was their final finished product. Gladio gleefully took it to go show his mother. 

As his son continued to grow and learn new things, Clarus would help him when he could. Sometimes, life was more difficult than he’d planned, but they both still had each other. The birth of his daughter and the death of his wife took their toll, but father and son survived. Clarus used the strength that seemed to roll off his son to help trample his own fears. 

How an eight-year-old could understand the finer points of life and death was beyond him. Clarus was supposed to be the one offering comfort to his son, not the other way around. Gladio, it seemed, had paid more attention to his mother’s activities than he’d realized. He knew where to put things away in the kitchen and had an uncanny ability to find things even Clarus had lost in the house. 

At times, these simple acts overwhelmed him with such emotion that he could hardly speak. His wife and companion was gone, and he’d not been prepared for that eventuality. Despite the brave face Gladio had worn, Clarus knew his son would need time to grieve. 

It was one stormy night, nearly a month after Liliales had passed, that things came to a head. Clarus had been attempting to work late one evening and was not being very successful. He’d been staring off in a daze, towards his study wall, for almost twenty minutes. The sound of soft footfalls caused him to look over at the door. Nothing appeared but Clarus knew someone was in the hallway. His newborn baby was asleep upstairs with a nanny nearby, so that only left Gladio. 

“Son?” He called out, hoping to coax the boy out from his hiding spot. Sure enough, Gladio shuffled into view a moment later. His face instantly alerted Clarus to the issue. It was blotchy and red, Gladio had been crying. Clarus had seen his son cry in the days that followed their loss, but it had tapered off considerably after the first week. However, it became clear that Gladio had merely been hiding his emotions. 

Mentally cursing himself for not noticing sooner, he quickly beckoned his son into the room with open arms. Gladio ran to him in a flash, colliding into his body with a loud thump.

“She’s gone!” He wailed, “I miss her so much!”

Clarus hugged Gladio tightly and lifted him into his lap. The boy was getting bigger by the day so it was harder than he’d remembered. “I miss her too,” he added after a moment. 

“What do we do?” Gladio sniffled, as he let his tears flow freely.

“We live our lives as she would have wanted us to, full and happy,” Clarus added solemnly. He needed to heed his own advice. The grief that threatened to drown him daily wasn’t easy to manage. Maybe, between the two of them, they could find a way to move forward. 

A new but familiar ritual began that very night. Once Iris, his daughter, was asleep, Gladio and he would sit on the couch together and talk. Some nights were nothing but tears and hugs; others were filled with retelling loving memories. It was through this release of emotions that father and son were able to help each other deal with their grief, and heal. 

Life evened out after a while, and a new normal was found. His daughter took her place as the princess of the house, and Gladio seemed more than willing to show her all he’d learned. It was one moment in particular that nearly made Clarus breakdown. His eleven-year-old son had come into his study one night holding Iris. She was a sprightly little three-year-old that never shied away from attention.

“This is what I used to do, Iris,” Gladio announced with conviction, as he stopped next to Clarus’ desk. “See that jar?” he asked pointing. Iris followed his finger and nodded. “I would empty all the stuff out and put it back. It’s fun you should try.”

Clarus watched, as his daughter lit up at the suggestion. Leaning forward, she nearly toppled out of Gladio’s hold, but he held her tightly. 

“Hey, you gotta sit on Dad’s lap or it won’t work,” Gladio offered as he effortlessly handed his sister over to him. “Dad will keep you from falling over.”

Emotions were threatening to choke him as he sat holding his daughter. Gladio had already dragged over the pen jar and was showing Iris how to tip it over. The three of them spent the next twenty minutes playing. Finally, when the jar was full once more, Gladio reached out to take Iris back. 

“Come on, sprout, time for bed! You can’t hide in Dad’s office forever!” Gladio proclaimed. “But I’m sure you can come back tomorrow and play again.” 

Iris giggled and squealed as Gladio scooped her up to take her upstairs. Thankfully, no one was there to see Clarus get misty eyed after they left. Apparently, memories can be reborn. 

**Author's Note:**

> Emptying out the pencil jar, escaping mom to avoid bedtime, and writing things with the magnifying glass were all things I did with my dad. :)
> 
> Check me out on tumblr if you want. Just mostly FFXV stuff with some random dribbles. [BGN846 Blog](https://bgn846.tumblr.com/)
> 
> or Twitter [ BGN846 Twitter](https://twitter.com/BGN846?lang=en)
> 
> Please don't copy or plagiarize my work. Thanks! Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its content


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